


Cursed

by Writings_of_a_Hufflepuff



Series: Gotta Show a Little Backbone ~ Gilbert Wood [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, gilbert is my oc, he is my bOY, mentions a bad week, the reader menstruates in this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:41:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23312542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writings_of_a_Hufflepuff/pseuds/Writings_of_a_Hufflepuff
Summary: Fandom: Original CharacterPairing: Gilbert Wood x Reader (who menstruates, but no pronouns used)Warning: Angst, bad week, hurt/comfortSummary/Request: You’re having a really bad week, but your boyfriend is there to comfort you.
Relationships: Original Male Character/Reader
Series: Gotta Show a Little Backbone ~ Gilbert Wood [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2063625
Kudos: 8





	Cursed

* * *

You were having a really bad week. One thing after another seemed to be going wrong and nothing seemed to be going right. It felt like someone had cursed you, put some sort of hex on you. It wouldn’t surprise you. 

Firstly, you’d fallen off a curb in the pouring rain directly into a puddle, hurting your knee in the process, then you were splashed by three cars in a row. 

Secondly, you bled through your trousers at work, in a very obvious way with no way of hiding it or changing. It was both uncomfortable and anxiety inducing. 

Then your aunt got sick and ended up in hospital and lastly, you nearly dropped a knife on yourself while putting the dishes away. You were pretty sure you might not survive the week at this point. 

You’d reached your breaking point. Which is why Gilbert found you sat at the end of your shared bed crying. You were a mess; grazed knees, stomach cramps, and messy tears. You must have a looked a sight…truth was that Gilbert didn’t give a shit what you looked like, he just cared that you were sad.

“Hey…hey, what’s wrong?” He sits himself beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. Your nose is running, your eyes are red, and he can hear a little hiccup in your breath as you struggle to calm yourself down. 

“I…everything is just shit…i’m cursed or haunted or something.” He hums in acknowledgement, hand reaching up to brush through your hair, gently pulling at strands in an attempt to soothe you. Dark eyes looking down at you with sympathy and a little bit of that genuine humour that he always seems to bring everywhere he goes. 

“Have you been in any tombs lately?” You shake your head no, looking up at him, curiosity slowing your tears. His smile is slight and soft, the scar across his lip twisting with it. 

“What about insulting any old ladies who might possibly be witches?” You once again shake your head no.

“How about cursing any ancient deities, who might hate you for it?” You turn fully in his arms to face him, your tears have completely stopped now, and his eyes are brighter than before, dark curls falling into them. You shake your head once more. 

“Visited any haunted houses lately?” A final shake of your head and he nods with a frown, almost like he’s coming to a conclusion, an answer to your problems.

“Mmm, well, it seems that its a case of rather bad luck, but nothing I can’t fix, love.” 

You’re about to ask how he’s going to fix it when twisting fingers reach your sides, pushing against spots that have you pushing away from him with sudden and heavy laughter. 

“Gil! No, stop!” But you don’t really mean it. You cheeks puff as your lips turn up and your teeth show as you fall back on the bed. Gilbert is hovering over you, fingers still tickling your ribs and under your knees. 

Your laughter slows down as he fingers still and you lie with your eyes closed a few moments, trying to catch your breath with a wide grin across your lips. When you open them you look up at Gilbert who is hovering above you, arms either side of your head. His brown curls are in his eyes, but it doesn’t hide the crinkle at the corners of them or the wide smile as he looks at you. Soft. The best way to describe that look. The best way to describe him.

Biting your lip you ask, “So i’m not cursed?”

“Definitely not, but we can always get you some sage or something, if it would make you feel better?” 

“You know what would really make me feel better?” You ask with a impish smile.

“Nope. What?”

You tap your lips with your index finger, before grinning wide at him, “A kiss from my favourite human.”

He laughs, “I think that can be arranged”. You lean up at he leans down, soft lips pressing into yours, familiar and welcome, like home. You smile into the kiss, as Gilbert lowers himself atop you, still keeping most of his weight off you. He’s close enough for you to wrap your arms around him, to run your fingers through his curls, to feel his chest rise and fall. 

He bits your lip playfully before pulling away, just enough to speak, but not too far. His forehead pressed against your own. “Feel better?”

“Much.”


End file.
